


Riding Shotgun

by Kohananinja



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: "You're taking too long imma just grab you then", 1990's level acceptace of different sexual preferences, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain Hydra, Diners, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gender Issues, Kidnapping, M/M, MIT!Tony, Mostly from Tony's perspective though, Not between Steve and Tony, Omega Tony Stark, Road Trips, Roadtrip of Love, Sexual Assault, Steve's pretty gone for Tony from the start, Young!Tony, brainwashed steve rogers, learning to be a person again, maybe a little dubcon but not in a sexual sense, more like the Terminators "come with me if you want to live"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-03-29 15:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19022605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kohananinja/pseuds/Kohananinja
Summary: Steve Rogers is found in 1983...by Hydra, who wastes no time in crafting another weapon out of the super soldier. Eight years later, Hydra has taken an interest in forcefully recruiting Tony Stark, as the AI he’s been piloting at school proves to be decades beyond what anyone else is doing in the field.The mission is simple, one team will snatch the target, the other will eliminate the parents and retrieve the precious SHIELD cargo they carry. Except Tony Stark is never simple, and for the first time in a very long time as he stalks his target, Steve starts to wonder… Eventually, Steve decides that instead of kidnapping the young genius for the use of Hydra, he’s kidnapping him to keep Tony safe.Tony’s permission on the impromptu road trip is irrelevant.Tony on the other hand is definitely not amused, swinging between cutting snark that frustratingly goes over the guy’s head, and the uncomfortable sympathetic horror that comes from observing a nightmare version of his childhood hero come to life; a man whose memory Tony spent his formative years both worshiping and reviling. That frustrated sympathy starts to grow into something else entirely however, as the pair spend more time together. Shenanigans ensue. Also love.





	1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:

So this is my first foray into actually writing fanfic, though I'm definitely an avid reader where Stony is concerned. I had this idea a while back that I posted on a prompt thread on tumbler. It had some positive responses, but this idea turned out to be one of those niggling ones where the characters start talking to you, and I just had to start writing it. The first chapter here is a prologue of sorts. I do have a rough outline of of plot with an ending in mind, so I'm not super worried about finding that endpoint, but I'm definitely going more "gardener" than "architect" in my approach on this one. I know tagging is important, so I'll add as I go if anything jumps into the story that I wasn't expecting when I first started this. As for the ABO dynamics, I'm definitely going lighter on that aspect, exploring the more subtle side of sexism in this world. Bonding and heats are definitely a thing in this world, but I'm not sure how prominently I plan to have that come into play here given the plot. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Hope you enjoy my super indulgent story full of tropes I most enjoy. I don't have a beta reader, so any of the inevitable mistakes here are mine. 

========================================================================================

**Prologue**

****

****

**Undisclosed SHIELD Facility, Marked Northern Europe**  
March 17th, 1983  
22:41

 

Normally, he might find drinking alone in a dark office a bit maudlin, but tonight Alexander Pierce was willing to make an exception. Fate was a funny thing, he couldn’t help but muse thoughtfully to the scotch in his hand, ice clinking against the side as he raised the glass to his lips for a deep swallow. It burned down his throat in a smooth slide the way only good alcohol really can. It was pure, cleansing the stale taste of failure left behind after years of dead ends and dashed hopes. So many missed opportunities, years of resources lost to a fruitless search that they could never quite quit. Howard Stark alone had vested a neigh fortune into the venture, hands always coming away empty; save for the bottle of course.The potential reward was just too high, no matter how many times he watched his hopes dashed among the waves of the Atlantic. All that money, man power, and cutting edge Starktech useless...and then one fishing boat gets blown off course. It was sheer luck one of their agents was the one to pick up the chatter, otherwise there was no telling whose hands their prize might have fallen into. Order, security, a real chance for world peace. For the first time in years, Pierce felt like he’d glimpsed sight of a path toward that shining city on a hill. 

 

Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway outside his office, the only warning before a winded agent was throwing his door open with a quick saluted. “Sir!” He bit out quickly, chest heaving. Betas didn’t normally give off a strong enough scent for an alpha’s nose to pick up on, but he reeked of excitement. Not that Pierce could blame him. “Report.” He said shooting back the rest of his drink before setting the glass neatly back on the desk.

“The asset’s been secured on base when you’re ready. Currently still in the process of revival, but we’ve got a heartbeat steady, and the equipment is ready.” The awe in the agent’s voice was clear. After nearly forty years frozen in the ice, no one had truly expected such strong life signs to remain, serum induced alpha physique or not. 

“Let’s see it then.” Pierce rose from his desk, not bothering to waste time with any more idle chatter. He wanted to see for himself the impossible. 

The room they kept it in was cold, both in temperature and in its clinical utilitarianism. That was fine, their new asset would have no need of such comforts. Pierce strode to the bed the asset was laid out on, pulling a chart out of the hands of an omega nurse who was fussing with his IV and breathing tube. The medical equipment they had the asset hooked up to was designed for a controlled assent, it shouldn’t regain any semblance on consciousness until they were ready for it. Just in case though, the heavily reinforced shackles eliminated any illusion that they were in a hospital, and would keep the asset succure. 

“The process should take another twelve hours Sir. With that time line, we should be ready to begin treatments by 1500 hours tomorrow.” The nurse suggested softly as she adjusted the thin sheet that hid the asset’s modesty. Pierce took a moment to examine it more closely, hand reaching out to brush a stray blond lock from a perfectly chiseled cheekbone before venturing lower to rip away the sheet. The nurse’s nostrils flared with a nervous glance at Pierce, clearly uncomfortable, but said nothing as he discarded the fabric on the floor. The asset was not a person, it would not do to treat it as such--even in small gestures meant to spare them any discomfort. A weapon had no need of such things. The nurse might need to be replaced, a beta would be better. 

“Hail Hydra.”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**December 13, 1991**

 

“Nope, gonna have to pass there sourpatch.” Tony gritted out, sunglasses firmly in place to shield him from the insufferably cheerful sunshine that was currently making his hangover pound his head like a jackhammer. If they happened to look out of place with his bundled winter coat, hand knitted blue scarf, and ratty jeans that might have been a teensy bit worse for the ware after last night’s festivities, morning Tony had zero fucks to give before 9 am. Crashing in some dude’s bathtub had definitely not been one of his smarter moves, but then thirsty Thursday was rarely known as an occasion for pique decision making skills.

“So you’re just going to stay on campus for the entire holiday vacation...alone...moping.” Rhodey shot back, raising an unimpressed brow as they continued their trek back towards their apartment. 

“I’m not moping.” Tony hissed, hands clutching around his 22 oz cup of gas station coffee. Was it French press, no, but it made the little stars dancing on the inside of his eyelids slow down just a smidge, so for now it was the heavenly nectar of the gods. “Look, I love your mom, I really do, but if I keep showing up with you at every holiday break and family function she’s gonna expect you to pop a ring. Which considering you’re bringing Stephanie--”

“Lindsey.” Rhodey corrected patiently with that long suffering friend squint that just pinched around the eyes. 

“Whatever, Lindsey, it’s gonna be awkward okay. I’m not playing third wheel in that alpha sandwich. I know your mom’s not getting the memo that you don’t swing that way, but me being there’s just going to pore salt in the wound.” And that got a wince. 

Rhodey’s preferences were something of a sore subject in the Rhodes household, as Alpha/Alpha couples still didn’t play well in certain circles. Society had eased up a bit on Alpha male and female couples, but at the end of the day, there was still that nefarious thought floating in the back of the proverbial mind that the one you brought home was an omega--virginal preferably. Not that Tony fit that bill exactly anymore either. He’d been ‘soiled goods’ for years, which was at the heart of why Rhodey didn’t even bother to suggest Tony go visit _his_ parents for Christmas. Omega liberation was all well and good at charity benefits for Howard Stark, but heaven forbid his own omega son start spreading his legs. What would people say? Needless to say, both of their families were pretty convinced Tony and Rhodey’s apartment was some kind of covert love nest, because obvious an alpha and omega could never be just friends or live together without banging. 

“I just don’t like thinking of you stuck here alone. Tell me at least you’re not going to go on a binger while I’m gone? I can’t come pick you up from Virginia.” Rhodey said pointedly. Tony normally would have taken more offense to the insinuation, but he _had_ just spent a sizable chunk of his morning passed out in some guy’s bathroom, so his position was a little undercut. Party hardy Bacardi and all that...

“Look, if it makes you feel better, the only binge I'm planning to go on is in the lab. I’m making a lot of headway on that learning algorithm, but the server is too limited without a proper portable network interface. He’s building data connections as fast as he can, but the rest of the web hasn’t caught up yet.” Tony lamented to his coffee, though the grin belied how delighted he actually was with having a puzzle laid before him to solve. 

“Just promise me you’ll stay out of trouble.” Rhodey grumbled, hands shoving into his coat pockets in a classic Rhodey sign of surrender.

 

“Come on, it’s just two weeks. It’ll be fine. I _can_ go that long without a keeper you know.” Tony shot back as they rounded the corner. Neither man noticed the blank stared blue eyed alpha that followed on their tail a few moment later.


	2. Enter Sandman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  *****Chapter Warning:** There is a scene this chapter with some attempted non-con. (Not between Steve and Tony) Originally, that was not how I'd planned for that scene to go down, but the muse has a mind of it's own.
> 
> I've got this chapter about as good as I think it's going to get, so hopefully it's some semblance of decent. Steve in particular was kind of difficult the write, so any comments on your take with the characterization would be appreciated. Tony's dialogue is more entertaining to write, but there is a lot of conflicted internalized sexism he's processing that I'm not sure always comes off how I was intending. Regardless, I hope those who choose to read this enjoy. Thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos for the prologue! I love getting feedback, and it definitely motivated me to get this first chapter finished within a week. I hope everyone enjoys.

**“I need someone to show me the things in life that I can't find  
I can't see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind!”**

The pounding electric thrum of the guitar solo of **_Paranoid_** punched Tony’s movements as he finished tightening the last loose bolt on Dum-E’s arm after his very convincing imitation of Humpty Dumpty. “Seriously, why do I bother with you? You can’t tell the difference between a drill press and a drill bit? It’s literally attached to the table!” Dum-E hand whirled down in apology, trying to pick up Tony’s mug off the desk to hold out as an oil spiked olive branch. Tony took it with a sigh of resignation, long since given up on getting Dum-E to tell the difference between creamer and motor oil.

“Just try not to go on anymore horizontal adventures today, okay? You’re heavier than you look.” Tony took the mug and patted his arm gently to show all was forgiven. “Nap time.” He added, pointing to the bots’ charging station, before turning on his heel back toward the computer.

“J, cut the music.” Tony called as he slid into his wheelie chair and started pulling open files labeled audio samples. Jarvis complied with the request, and a text box popped up on his screen.

**Would you prefer a more classic arrangement Sir, or will we be continuing with operation motor mouth?**

“Prep the work station J. Don’t worry buddy, we’ll have you talking with your big boy words before we know it. Try to make sure the first one’s daddy.” Tony added with a cheeky smirk as he swiveled in the chair. It was exciting to think they were this close to including interactive audio to the interface. It would make communicating when he was elbows deep in a project that much easier, but it would also be nice to hear another voice answering back. More than one classmate may have pointed out his seeming tendency to talk to himself while working. Which was ridiculous of course, crazy people did that. Tony was rich, so at worst talking to AIs made him eccentric. Still, it would probably seem less awkward if they were talking back.

**Of course Sir. Shall I begin playing the files for sample conversion?**

“Yeah J, let’s see what survived through the digitization process.” Tony agreed as he watched the screen fill up with a truly horrendous looking floral three tier cake that read **Happy Birthday Tony** in bubble gum pink frosting. Tony saw there were little white butterflies accenting the pearly trim...and sprinkles.

“ –the button on the top maybe? Is it working? Okay, make sure to get the floral arrangements in the shot. Tony stop pouting in the corner, or your face will stick that way.” Maria Stark’s voice could be heard before the camera panned away to an utterly miserable looking version of himself at fourteen, tucked and groomed into a three piece cream colored suit accessorized with a pink tie that matched the cake.

“But why do I have to wear this mom, it’s so tight!” Tony’s little doppelganger grimaced as he pulled on the offending tie. The getup made him look like the poster child for Easter brunch in the Hamptons, and the fabric clung to his body in a way Tony distinctly remembered as being hot and uncomfortable.

“Don’t fidget.” Maria Stark ordered as she continued checking the layout on the tables, the picture of the perfect hostess in her matching pink sheath dress and pearls. “If the cut feels tight here we may need to look at changing up your diet dear. More greens, less red meat. It’ll help keep you nice and slim.” She said absently as she moved over to fix Tony’s tie.

“I think you look quite trim master Tony, very handsome.” Jarvis, the human one, said primly from somewhere out of view. He was probably the one holding the camera, Tony thought numbly. God, it had been over a year since he died, and it still hurt hearing his voice.

“Yes of course, very beautiful. You’re going to turn all kinds of heads at your party tonight.” Maria agreed as she ran her hand up to Tony’s hair to try and fix a rebellious curl that had sprung free of his coif. “Alice Tate had her son in the most darling powder blue for his coming out party last fall. That color would have looked so much sweeter on you dear, but people would just say I copied her. Oh well, we work with what we’re given.” She sighed, giving up on his hair.

“But I don’t want to have a coming out party. Can’t we just stay home?” Tony turned to the camera, pleading to his only ally in the room. The first birthday after he’d presented as omega had been the hardest to adjust to. Before then, he’d been Howard’s heir, a beta like his father they’d all assumed. Tony had never shown any of the early signals or tendencies those stupid pamphlets at school proclaimed with their patronizing illustrated guides. Tony most certainly had **_not_** expressed a nurturing nesting instinct toward animals and small children. The only warning he got was a brief wave of nausea. Then he spent a month bed ridden with the tale tell stomach cramps that signaled his body was going through the final stages of puberty as his body shifted to its omega physique. After that things were just different, or people treated him like **_he_** was different. Tony still remembered Gary Ullen, a boy he’d grown up rough housing and playing Captain America and the Howling Commandos with, trying to lead him on the dance floor in a spectacularly awkward waltz. Gary tried to cop a feel, and Tony may have stepped on his toes. Accidentally of course.

“I think your mother is quite keen on it. The party should only take a few hours, and then we can come straight home. We’ll make popcorn, and watch whatever you like in the den.” Jarvis offered in a quiet conspiratorial tone.

“Star Wars?” Tony asked with a sidelong look.

“Oh course Sir.” Jarvis replied warmly. “Now let’s open at least one birthday present before your guests arrive shall we? We can pull our public armor on afterward.”

“Jarvis, cut feed!” Tony choked out abruptly, and the screen went black. Tony wished they hadn’t started with that one, but it had the least corrupted audio, and frankly there just weren’t many Stark family home videos that were unscripted enough for Jarvis to be in them. And wasn’t that just a farce. Jarvis had been the central core of their family, the axis that kept all the wheels in place and turning. The Starks could never have function without him; maybe that’s why they weren’t speaking now that he was gone.

 **Would you like me to go through the other files on my own Sir? The sample was strong enough for me to navigate the remaining data for compatible audio signatures.** The text popped up on the screen, offering an out that Tony jumped to take.

“Yeah, work on that for now J. Add all compatible files to your servers.” Tony said clearing his throat and wiping sweaty palms on his pant legs. No matter how much it hurt hearing Jarvis’s voice again, Tony craved it like a hit of whatever colorful pills Ty used to pass around at one of his house parties. Not that he’d be going to anymore of those in the near future, he thought bitterly. Tony’s vices these days veered strictly toward sex an alcohol, but occasionally he’d still feel this itch to be out of his head for a while in a way even tequila couldn’t replicate. Ty used to be Tony’s go to guy for that particular triple threat, but seeing as how things ended last night, Tony was more likely to punch Ty than fuck him. Probably.

This was perhaps what his ex-therapist would call a prime example of his masochistic tendencies, but Tony had spent the better part of his adult life ignoring her little kernels of wisdom, so he wasn’t about to start doing anything about it now. In his defense, this was the same woman who’d told him his manic depressive episodes were being caused by a hormone imbalance from his heat suppressants. Apparently the key to mental health was knotted bliss and babies. Who knew? Apparently the Federation of United Citizens for Keeping Integrated Natural Genders, for which she was a card carrying member. Tony could almost forgive them if they were more self-aware about their acronym.

 **Shall I ‘bast’ Metallica while you work Sir?** The text asked on the screen.

“Aw J, you know me so well.” Tony grinned. Whatever pain he felt in the process, it would be totally worth it to hear Jarvis snark again.

**“Exit light! Enter night! Take my hand, we’re off to never-never land!”**

***

“Mission report.” Was the first thing out the handler’s mouth as the asset climbed into the van. The paint job on the outside proclaimed they were Ace Plumbing Services, but on the inside was a mobile mission control with the strike team currently crammed around the consol. Their heads picked up at his entrance, cutting off some kind of conversation as his handler quickly waved him toward a seat in the back.

“Target’s movements are consistent. He’s currently located in Zone B.” The asset replied as instructed, tone clinical and detached. He has tailed the target for most of the morning before watching him disappear inside one of the brick buildings owned by the school. The target would likely remain there for several more hours given his observations, and that was acceptable. The asset had already scouted the building, and it was secure. No one would threaten the target before extraction.

“And the roommate?” The handler, Garret he remembered, pressed.

“Absence confirmed. Extraction window should open by 1700 hours.” The Asset complied, tossing down the photographs from the last 12 hour watch. Surveillance was key for the mission’s success.

“Why don’t we just grab him already then? It’s not like he’s gonna be much of a challenge.” One of the Alphas on the strike team piped up. Rumlow, the asset’s memory supplied. The asset wasn’t sure he liked Rumlow, which was odd. Weapons did not have feelings or preferences. He was sure he’d been told that before.

“Their team’s not in place yet. If we jump the gun here with the kid, all we’re going to do is spook Stark. You want to be the one to tell Pierce why he won’t get his serum samples?” Garret shot back absently as he shuffled through the photos.

“We play this straight, stick to the SHIELD mission until they give the signal. No contact.” Garret continued with a pointed look at Rumlow. “This is a recruitment op. He’s a technology asset, the idea’s to encourage him to cooperate.” **Only cowards get their jollies hurting defenseless O’s**...the voice was familiar, but trying to focus on it was like grasping at smoke. It was a startling thought, but the asset agreed.

“Oh I can think of a few ways to encourage him.” Rumlow leered at the other alpha. “I bet he’d beg for it too, with those doe eyes and pouty lips he’s always showing off. God just look at him, his ass is just asking for in those jeans.” He picked up the photo of the target sprawled out on a tiled floor. The position left his shirt rucked up to his midriff, and had looked distinctly uncomfortable for his neck. The asset’s orders were not to be seen, but as the target was clearly unconscious, he had not noticed as the asset lifted and rearranged him in the tub. That left his neck properly supported. The asset also locked the door before climbing back out the window. It would leave the target more secure before extraction. Rumlow made a noise deep in the back of his throat, something rumbling and vaguely possessive. No, the asset did not like Rumlow, he thought, a sharp hot flash sparking in his chest, violent in nature. **Mine** , it said **stay away!** It wanted to hear the distinctive crunch of bone.

“Keep it in your pants Rumlow. That little bitch hacked into the Pentagon on a dare. Higher ups care more about what’s in his head than what’s between his legs, so don’t get any ideas.” Garret looked Rumlow in the eye with a clear order, and for a moment it seemed like the two alphas might come to blows. Dominance displays like this weren’t uncommon between alphas, but it wasn’t supposed to happen within the chain of command.

“Cut me some slack boss, look at him. I’ve had to sit here watching him parade around for months. You can’t lay a piece like that out and not expect to get the blood pumping south.” Rumlow grimaced, obviously chafing under the order, but not dominant enough to counter the other alpha. Instead he turned his sly gaze toward the asset. “I guess you don’t really worry about that any more eh Rogers?”

“Don’t.” Garret said sharply. “Not even as a joke. He’s been out too long already.” His eyes darted to the asset uneasily, snapping his fingers twice by its face. The asset looked up from the photos, eyes refocusing on his handler. Garret gave him a long hard look before finally turning away.

“Relax boss, they’ll put his brain back through the blender before you know it.” Rumlow said easily. The anticipation in his eyes as he looked at the asset unmistakable.

***

Eventually, the need for solid food won out. Between the lack of greasy food for his hangover, and hunkering down in the lab before lunch only to look up at the clock and notice it was in fact 10:30 **PM** , Tony’s stomach was in full revolt. With Rhodey gone for the holiday break, nothing edible was coming out of that kitchen, so Tony resigned himself to braving to see what was open. Trekking across campus this late, that meant bars or diners, and while Tony had enjoyed some surprisingly satisfying pub fare in all their interesting incarnations, he really wasn’t looking to deal with the hassle that came with on a Friday night. He’d half convinced himself to see if that new shawarma place on 10th street was open, when he noticed the familiar blonde alpha jogging up and trying to snake an arm around his middle.

“Where were you last night, I missed you…” The he slurred into Tony’s ear, clearly intoxicated. It wasn’t a new look on Tiberius Stone, but it was a lot less endearing when Tony also wasn’t plastered.

“Surprised you noticed Ty, what with that undergrad’s mouth wrapped around your dick.” Tony’s tone was clipped as he successfully wriggled free of Ty’s arm and tried to keep walking. “Go find him if you’re lonely.” Tony bit out as he shouldered past. Tony’s standards on fidelity these days were admittedly pretty low, but he liked to think he had at least a little more self-respect than to crawl back to Ty after a clear snub like that. Doing pity jello-shots and passing out in the bathroom was much more dignified.

“C’mon, it was a mistake, I’m sorry! Don’t be like that. You know we’re not exclusive, no labels no fuss right?!” Ty jogged ahead again, this time crowding Tony up against the brick wall of the building behind them.

“Not when we’re there together asshole!” Tony hissed back, trying to get around Ty’s arms as they moved to cage him against the wall. “Knock it off Ty, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit tonight!” Drunk or not, Ty was a lot stronger than he was. In another context, Tony might find that a turn on, but right now it just pissed him off as he tried pushing the willfully oblivious alpha away without success.

“Don’t play games Tony, I know who you are. Always down for a good time right?” Ty smirked, grabbing a handful of Tony’s ass as he dragged him against the Alpha’s body, and slotting his mouth over Tony’s. The kiss lasted about as long as it took Tony’s teeth to get a good grip and sink into Ty’s invading tongue.

“Shit!” Ty yelped, shoving Tony back against wall roughly. “God quit being such a bitch about it, I said sorry.” This time his hand came down on the sensitive gland by his neck, and the sensation nearly made Tony’s knees buckle. “Stop it…” Tony gritted out, flexing his wrist to try and activate the tazer built into his watch. It was distressingly difficult though with the grip Ty had on his forearm.

“Get. Off.” A voice growled behind Ty, the only warning Tony had before the alpha was ripped bodily off of him and tossed what looked like a good fifteen feet away. **Holy shit!** Tony’s mind reeled as he took in the newcomer, their eyes meeting briefly before he turned to square off against Ty. He was big, with the most insanely unfair hip to shoulder ratio Tony had ever seen. Everything about him screamed tightly coiled power, he was just so… **Alpha**. Something deeply primal that Tony didn’t often like to acknowledge purred at the word, which was just embarrassing for a lot of reasons.

“Back off man, he’s my O. We’re working some shit out.” Ty was either dumb or drunk enough to growl as he stumbled back to his feet in a stance that clearly signaled ‘fight’. The other alpha just regarded him coolly before gritting out an icy “No.” His body shifting more clearly between Tony and Ty, as if even the drunken alpha’s gaze on Tony was unacceptable.

It was a standoff at that point, conflict inevitable with two alphas pumping out as much aggression as they were. It ended up being a two hit fight. Ty lunged first with a haymaker. The other alpha just kind of, _caught_ Ty’s arm in his left hand before winding back his right to collide with his opponent’s jaw. Ty was out cold before he hit the ground.

Blue eyes flashed as the alpha turned around to look at him, scenting victory, and for one terrifying moment, Tony was gripped by an involuntary fear that this new alpha was about to try and take his turn. He’d heard stories about that kind of thing, Alphas high on their own hormones after a fight and grabbing the closest omega they could find to go to town. Tony had always thought it was a load of shit. Who would just stand there and let themselves be used like that right? In that moment though, Tony thought he understood. The urge to kneel and bare his neck in pacifying submission was overwhelming. **“Safe! Safe! Safe! No threat Alpha, you’re the strongest! Thank you Alpha!”** His instincts cried, the air around him reeking with it, and Tony hated himself just a little bit for that weakness.

“T-thank, but I didn’t need your help okay, I was handling it!” Tony managed to get out, his voice steadying out by the end. He pushed himself off the ground to put a little distance between himself and the alphas, as frankly the position was making him feel a little cornered.

“…Okay.” The alpha replied, posture suddenly uncertain now that the threat was gone. He made no move forward, and his eyes shifted about, almost as if he were nervous Tony might walk over and try to touch **_him._** It was strangely comforting, and Tony felt the tension in his shoulders ease just a bit. At least they did until the alpha turned on his heel suddenly and started to walk away.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Tony called out in alarm. He reached his arm out as if Tony could somehow physically keep him there, before dropping it at the ludicrousness of the notion.

“You said you were handling it.” The alpha replied, almost wary as he stopped his retreat midstride. He didn’t turn completely back to Tony, as if ready to bolt at any moment, and for some reason it kind of pissed Tony off. Who the hell was this guy, swooping in and out like he was goddamn Batman or something?!

“Uh no, you break it you buy it pal, you can’t just leave him here like this!” Tony insisted, arms crossed in his best imitation of his father’s “And that’s final!” voice.

“Why?” His head cocked like a confused puppy. The move was kind of adorable with bright blue eye exaggerating the move, but Tony was too incensed to acknowledge the wayward thought.

“Why?! Because this is **_Boston_** , it is literally freezing outside.” Tony squawked. Was this guy for real? “Look, Ty’s an asshole, but we can’t just leave him here to get hypothermia either.” The alpha turned a skeptical gaze on Ty’s prone figure, but didn’t argue as he knelt to sling Ty over his shoulder…like he weighed nothing…neat. Not what Tony had in mind, but it’s not like they could call the cops. “Gee officer, my on-again-off-again tried getting real fresh with me! Yes, I am aware its late sir. No I don’t think what I’m wearing is relevant sir. I feel the “no” was implied when I told him to fuck off sir.” That conversation would go over real great. More than likely they’d book Batman here for assault before they’d do anything about Ty. Most would probably agree Tony had it coming, known slut and all. 

They ended up leaving Ty inside a laundromat which, all things considered, Tony felt was fair. They hadn’t had to walk too far to find it, but that was all the time needed for the adrenaline to ware off and his stomach to roar back to life with the reminder he hadn’t eaten any of what Rhodey would call ‘real food’ in the better part of two days. Apparently vodka was not part of a balanced breakfast. If Tony was feeling a little shaky in that moment, obviously that was why.

“Alright come on.” Again with that bewildered look. “I’m hungry, and entirely unnecessary or not, you just punched out my ex. Therefore you get pancakes. The kind with blueberries.” Tony insisted, his scent screaming **Stay! Stay! Stay!** Part of it was a deep rooted urge to stay close, but more importantly Tony had questions. In his experience, interrogations always went over better with breakfast food involved. For a moment, the alpha looked uncertain again, but after a moment of some kind of internal debate with himself, the side that wanted to follow Tony won out. “Fine.”

***

This was wrong, he shouldn’t be here. The asset’s orders were clear, watch, collect intel, no contact. This was a lot of contact. He still couldn’t explain to himself why he’d done it, the action was a direct violation of orders. Intervening when the target was unconscious was one thing, but this compromised the mission. Watching that alpha on the target though, the omega under him clearly struggling to get away, something had just snapped. **“I don’t like bullies.”** The phantom voice returned, achingly familiar, but always out of reach.

“Did the pancakes say something about your mother, or are you just psyching yourself up there big guy?” The target--Tony, asked with a raised brow as he popped another forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. The asset watched, strangely transfixed by the movement of his throat.

“Come on eat already, you’re starting to make me feel self-conscious here.” And that was an order. The asset lifted the fork to his mouth reflexively, and was surprised by the sweetness that rolled across his tongue. It must have shown on his face, because Tony smiled with a snort of laughter as if he’d done something funny. Warmth bloomed in his chest at the sight, unfamiliar but pleasant. The asset decided he liked that look. And pancakes. He finished those with militant efficiency, and Tony scraped a healthy portion of eggs onto his plate with a raised brow. Those were soon added to the list of things he liked as well.

“Soooo my good samaritan, you got a name? What’s your deal?” Tony’s gaze shifted to something more calculating as he leaned back against the booth in a move designed to look casual. His eyes swept over the asset like he were a puzzle Tony could work out. Normally those looks made the asset tense, they were always followed by prodding, pain, or the chair. From Tony though, something base and primal unfurled in his belly, drinking in the attention like a languid cat in the afternoon sun.

Weapons don’t have names, he almost replied, but that was wrong. He was the soldier, but that seemed wrong too. He didn’t know what to say to Tony’s increasingly expectant stare, except: “Rogers.” He blurted the name Rumlow had called him, surprised that this time it actually felt right. **Stevie** , another phantom voice whispered, soft and feminine. **Steven Grant Rogers** , the first voice was back, more urgent this time.

“Hah, I knew it! You work for my dad.” Tony snapped his fingers, sitting back in satisfaction with his assumption. “That getup you’re in, military cut, tight lipped and brooding. Are you on loan from Homeland Security or SHIELD?” Tony guessed with narrowed eyes.

“Who?” Steve blinked, as confused by his own swirling thoughts as he was the direction of this conversation. Steve…no. He was the asset, a weapon. There was no Steve his mind reeled.

“Oh come on, we’re gonna play this game. Howard Stark, you know, Stark Industries? The Manhattan Project? Captain America? God knows he never shuts up about that one.” Captain America. That name, it meant something. His hand came up to grip his head which was suddenly pounding.

“Look buddy relax, your job’s safe. I’m not gonna tattle. It’s not like you’re the first bodyguard I’ve caught red handed.” Tony rushed to assure, apparently misinterpreting the reason for his distress. “Ever met Phil? He was fun. Sneaky bastard, but great sense of humor.” Tony chattered on. Snow, gunfire, a train, **“Grab my hand!”** Falling, cold, so cold. He must have lost time because when his eyes looked up and focused again, Tony was at the counter paying the check. Tony. The target. The mission. An asset, like him, extract and recruit. Encourage him to cooperate.

 **“Oh I can think of a few ways to encourage him.”** Something crunched beneath his hand. The metal lip of the table bent around his fingers. His mind rushed to cold medicals rooms, injections, pain, the chair. Rumlow. They were going to hurt Tony, he felt the certainty of that in his bones. **No!** Something feral inside him snarled. They can’t have him. I won’t let them.

 **“You can’t go back.”** The phantom voice cautioned, and the asset…Steve, agreed. If he went back now, his handler would know, make him forget. There could be no mistakes. He had his new mission. He was gone before the omega even turned back to look at their booth.


	3. Chapter 2: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Warning:** Some attempted non-con here, mostly for Rumlow's grabby hands, but there's a scene with some heavily implied threat as well. Also be aware there is more graphic violence this chapter, as you can guess how Steve will react to this. This chapter is exclusively from Tony's perspective (after some trial and error, I realized that was the only way to get this chapter to flow the way I wanted it to), so the next one will be from Steve's to compensate.
> 
> I also want to take a minute to thank all the lovely people who left comments and kudos! The comments in particular are addictive creative crack that kept me motivated to find time to write for this, even when other projects vie for attention. I really enjoy hearing your thoughts and predictions for the story, so please feel free to keep them coming. :)
> 
> I've also been seeing a lot of chatter and art lately around Regency Era Stony, which got some plot bunnies stirring full of some of my favorite trashy romance novel tropes. I've got some ideas jotted down for a fic, so if that's also something you'd be interested in reading, let me know. I hope you all enjoy!

“No Obie, I’m sure. There’s no reason for you to fly in from Malibu. You’re on vacation.” Tony insisted to the phone DUM-E was holding up above his work station. He was arm deep in the guts of a ‘69 Firebird engine he was cannibalizing for parts when the call came in, and Tony shot his over excited bot a pointed glare to try and get him to hold the receiver still.

 

“Did you get those specs I sent you son?”

 

“Yeah, I took a look at it, but the weight distribution is all off. You’ll never get that thing to launch properly with that configuration. I’d say you need to change the casing alloy at least. Tungsten's too brittle, but you might try mixing in magnesium.” Tony suggested offhandedly. “And getting someone competent in for your R&D if that’s the best they’re giving you.”

 

“You could always come work for me.” Obie floated, too casual to be genuinely feigned. “You’re my little golden goose Tony, I feel like you practically work for me already. Why not make it official?” He pressed.

 

“Yeah, because that would go over real well with the old man.” Tony replied flatly. “Do you remember what happened when I packed off to MIT?” In fairness to Howard, it was as much skipping out on that engagement to Justin Hammer he’s arranged as Tony’s unseemly foray into higher education, but all the same. Lots of screaming, very dramatic. 

 

“That was years ago Tony. Besides, he was too much of a pup for you. Did you hear Hammer Industries dipped another ten points this month?” Obie purred conspiratorially. And this was why Uncle Obie was the best.

 

“Well it is Hammer tech. Your merchandise can only catch fire so many times before Uncle Sam starts ripping up some checks.” Tony couldn’t help grinning into the phone. Hammer was, quite frankly, a douche. Besides Jarvis, Obie had been the only one in Tony’s corner about the matter, even encouraging Tony to go to MIT. Obie had risked his working relationship with Howard in order to back Tony’s choices, so despite Obie’s assurances, Tony wasn’t looking to make trouble for him by poking that proverbial bear. Tony knew his father well enough to know Obie publicly taking Tony under his wing would cause conflict. The military old guard Howard ran around with might finally be allowing Omegas to enlist (in a limited capacity of course), but they sure as hell weren’t going to be thrilled by the thought of one designing their weapons. **It just isn’t done.** Tony could hear Howard’s favorite line already. SI’s stock would suffer, Obie would have a weakened position at the company, and frankly, improving missile designs wasn’t exactly where Tony’s passion lay anyway.

 

“We’re better off without the merger.” Obie agreed. “Did you get my present in the mail?” He asked, suddenly shifting gears. Tony’s pause must have been telling. “You haven’t opened it yet.” 

 

“Sorry.” Tony winced. “It’s at my apartment, I just haven’t had time. In my defense, it’s not even Christmas yet.” Tony shot back feebly.

 

“I sent it a month ago.” Obie deadpanned, and yeah...that was hard to argue. It just felt weird when Obie sent him gifts. The thought was nice, but it always reminded Tony of the same kind of expensive designer label trinkets Howard’s secretary picked out for his mistresses. Last year it had been Chanel perfume and a pearl strand necklace which...yeah the implications were a bit awkward. Tony just didn’t know how to tell that to the man who was like family to him, so mostly his smiled and moved on. It’s not like Obie meant it that way, so there really wasn’t any harm. “I’ll open it soon.” Tony promised weakly at Obie’s sigh. 

 

“If you’re not coming home to visit, at least tell me you’re spending the holiday with someone. Your mother worries. You still seeing that--?”

 

“Nope.” Tony cut off quickly, in no mood to talk to Obie about the trash fire that was his love life

 

“Ahhh.” Obie mused sympathetically. “Suppose I should let Howard know.”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about it Obie. If I had to hazard a guess, that new bodyguard the old man hired already sent off a very thorough report on that particular subject.” Tony grimaced as he tried not to think about the unfairly attractive alpha his father had sent to spy on him. It wasn’t as if this was the first time Howard had done it, but this was definitely the first one who set all of Tony’s inappropriate urges firmly to _‘climb him like a tree!_

__

 

 **And wouldn’t that just rankle the old man if I did?** A small petty part of Tony thought with vicious satisfaction, even as he began to discard the notion. For starters, being ditched at a diner was a pretty clear signal that tall, blonde, and beefy was not interested, and even Tony wasn’t enough of an asshole to lose the guy his job just to spite Howard. Some perfectly innocent flirting on the other hand...Tony mused thinking of blue eyes and an adorably wrinkled brow, no harm in that. The silence on the other end however, began to stretch on uncomfortably.

“What bodyguard?”

***

****  
**“Some of them want to use you**  
 **Some of them want to get used by you**  
 **Some of them want to abuse you**  
 **Some of them want to be abused!”**

 

Alright, so he lied. Rhodey would forgive him, Tony thought morosely as he downed the shot of cheap whiskey that was tonight’s special. It burned with a god awful cinnamon aftertaste as it settled sour in his stomach, but anything was better than the flush of humiliation he felt just thinking about the fool he’d made of himself last night. It was stupid to make assumptions, Tony knew better, but damnit, usually he was right! What other reason was there for some quiet super-jacked alpha with an obvious military bearing to follow Tony around and take orders without even a peep of complaint? The idea just didn’t compute without money involved, and it wasn’t like the guy had denied the charge.

 

 **“Stalker?”** Obie had speculated, insisting emphatically the guy wasn’t on Howard’s payroll. It was a chilling thought, but it didn't really square either. What kind of stalker tries to flee when they had their victim practically cornered in a deserted alley? Weren’t they supposed to have delusional attachments? For god’s sake, Tony took the guy to dinner, he should be on some kind of drugged up honeymoon or skinned into a lampshade by now if that was this guy’s angle. 

 

Instead he was stuck alone in a crappy half filed campus bar taking pity shots. With most of the student body cleared out for winter break, the regular crowd was pretty thinned out, but the owner had valiantly tried to rally the locals with a karaoke night. That last guy up singing Billie Jean, complete with moonwalk, had actually been pretty entertaining, but whatever poor tone-deaf soul was currently up there butchering Annie Lennox’s rolling tenor was really starting to kill Tony’s buzz.

 

“That should be illegal.” Came a smoky rumble on his left. Tony’s eyes roamed over the tall alpha leaning against the bar, their shoulders not quite touching, just close enough into his space for Tony to guess at his intent. Large, and undeniably attractive with his dark stubble and mischievous eyes, Tony suspected it was a move that often worked for him. 

 

“Hmm.” Tony replied noncommittally, hand shooting up to try and flag down the bartender for another drink. A different night, Tony might be tempted, but he hadn’t come here tonight looking for that kind of company. Besides, there was an intensity to this guy, a poorly concealed hunger in his lingering gaze that set Tony’s teeth on edge. 

 

“Hey, what do you say we get out of here?” The alpha barreled forward, grabbing Tony’s wrist, thumb circling his pulse in a bid for his attention. “Find a quiet place we can talk?”

 

“I’ll pass.” The grip wasn’t strong, and Tony tried to pull it away to create some distance between them at the bar. “I’m busy tonight, maybe another time.” Tony added, softening the blow with a tone as close to regret as he could stomach. That part was important though, safer.

 

“I insist.” He replied flatly, tightening his grip as he flashed a badge. “For your own protection, you need to come with me.” SHIELD, Tony registered as he looked over the photo ID and familiar logo. Tony narrowed his eyes, but didn’t protest as the alpha, an Agent Rumlow according to his badge, led him to a secluded table in the back with several other alphas in dark clothes and doing a poor job of masking the scent of their tension. 

 

“Mr. Stark.” The alpha clearly in charge here greeted as Tony was led to a seat he didn’t choose, so much as was encouraged to take.

 

“That’ my dad. Call me Tony or you’re gonna make me feel old.” Nothing on the man’s face changed at Tony’s jibe, so he dropped the pleasantness and jumped straight to the point. “What exactly is this about?”

 

“Your safety.” The alpha replied dryly, flashing his badge without missing a beat. Agent Garret Tony noted before shifting his gaze back to the older alpha. 

 

“So I’ve heard. Your guy here was pretty light on the specifics.” Rumlow was looming behind him, but Tony didn’t need to see the smirk to hear it in the huff he let out. 

 

“We have reason to believe you’ve become the next target of a very dangerous individual.” Garret finally replied after a brief pause to shoot a hard stare at Rumlow. Whatever silent conversation they had, Rumlow cleared his throat, and allowed a little more space between them. Small mercies. 

 

“Cryptic. Care to elaborate, or are we just gonna sit here and play guess who?” Tony bit out impatiently, arms crossed as he took in how many men were around the table. Five that he could detect for sure, but there could be more sprinkled throughout the bar like Rumlow had been.

 

“He’s an assassin, possibly KGB affiliated. Most of his hits have been in Europe so far, but he was spotted in town two days ago. The chatter is, his next target is you.” Garret started, throwing down a few grainy photographs that show a familiar head of blond hair. Tony couldn’t see his eyes in the first picture, but the build definitely looked like Rogers. The gun in his hand was a new addition though, along with the lethal looking intent Tony could read coiled in that powerful frame. Tony’s mind flashed back to the last show of power he’s seen those muscles display, the warm heat coiling low in his own body as he’d watched. A shiver racked down Tony’s spine at the memory. Garret must have misinterpreted it for fear, since he barreled ahead. “We’ve got men of the ground hunting for him now though, we’ll keep you safe.”

 

“Is this about my father?” Tony asked carefully, picking up another photo of Rogers off the table that had a better angle of his face. The eyes were visible in this one. _Cold_ , Tony thought at first glance. Undoubtedly the eyes of a killer, and utterly unlike the ones Tony remembered belonging to the man he’d shared pancakes with the night before. 

 

“It’s possible.” Garret replied. “We think it may have something to do with your own research however. We’ll have to take your files with us when we leave.”

 

“I don’t keep those kinds of records agent. Anything of consequence on my private server is encrypted to the gills and incomplete. Even if you could find someone to hack through, the data is rigged to purge without my biometric code. Safety first.” Tony smiled tightly without humor. It wasn’t a _complete_ lie, and Tony got the distinct feeling these ass clowns couldn’t tell the difference between a dummy data cache anyway. Come hell or high water, no one, SHIELD or not, was getting their hands on his work unless he damn well wanted them to. 

 

“Well good…that’s obviously well thought out.” Garret hesitated, eyes clearly scrutinizing. “What I need to know from you now though, is if he’s tried to contact you yet.”

 

“Nope.” Tony lied smoothly, not even sure why he did it. “I feel like I’d remember somebody sporting resting murder face.” He added grimly. He pointedly didn’t ask why a supposed assassin would try to talk to him before the whole murder bit. If this guy was as good as they were saying, Tony should never see him coming. Something else was going on here.

 

“Good. Then we have time to move.” Garret abruptly cut off his train of thought, standing from his seat with a tense look at the alphas around him. They obviously didn’t want to linger now that they’d found Tony.

“I want to talk to Peggy Carter.” Tony hedged, trying to stall the obvious herding out the door about to take place. Something wasn’t right here, but he couldn’t just outright refuse them either. They’d come in force for a reason, and while Garret might be playing nice so far, Tony had no doubts this would get ugly quickly if he tried to leave. If this was all really above board, they could damn well get him some verification.

 

“Of course. We’ll arrange it once we get you to the safe house. She’s the one who ordered we get you to safety.” Garret promised with what Tony assumed was meant to be a reassuring smile.

 

Bullshit. Tony thought viciously, keeping himself carefully composed to make sure it didn’t show on his face that they’d overplayed their hand. Whoever these fuckers were, they were lying. There was no way Aunt Peggy signed off on this. For starters, there were at least a dozen SHIELD agents Tony was on a first name basis with, any of which would be better suited to this kind of mission, which needed trust and discretion. She sure as hell wouldn’t have sent a pack of jackboot Alphas to try and pick him up from a bar. 

 

“Okay.” Tony lied after a beat. “Just let me grab my coat.” He said quietly, eyes carefully downcast in a submissive gesture and pumping out fear scent that had every alpha at the table sitting up a little bit taller. “Thank you for protecting me.” Tony said with a watery smile to really sell it as he slipped out of his seat toward the coat rack. He hadn’t bought himself much of a head start, but it would have to do. Coat in hand, Tony didn’t break stride as he slipped out the emergency exit, sprinting the second he hit the street.

***

The lab was closer. There was no way Tony was going to outpace those guys on foot all the way back to his apartment, and while the thought of his .45 Stark pistol safely tucked in the gun safe under his bed made him mourn that fact, the lab had reinforced steel doors he could lock himself behind. Fair trade.

 

“Jarvis!” He called out the second he was through the door, sliding the dead bolt firmly in place. “Open a line, try Aunt Peggy.” Tony ordered, even as his stomach clenched in rising dread. It was ten o’clock on a Saturday night. Who the hell was going to be in the office to pick up? The phone rang out as Tony scrambled about the lab for potential weapons. Pipe wrench, welding iron, copper coil, Tony tried to take a quick inventory as DUM-E came whirling off his charging station with a fire extinguisher. 

 

“Go watch the door!” Tony barked at the bot while he tried to jury-rig his supplies into a weapon more useful for long range. Those guys were built and military trained. If they could get close enough to put hands on him, it was game over. Tony couldn’t win a contest of brute force against a pack of alphas. The phone line went to voice mail again after the third call. He’d already left an encrypted message on her personal line trying to explain the situation, but that wasn’t going to help him now. Every fiber in Tony hated the idea, but if he couldn’t get a hold of Aunt Peggy, there was one other person he could try who was deeply entangled in SHIELD’s web.

 

“Jarvis, call dad. Try his personal line for the house in-!” **_BOOM!_** Tony’s head whipped towards the door that had just been rocked on its hinges. A door made of inch thick reinforced steel that suddenly had the outline of a fist ominously bulging from its smooth surface. God did they-were they using a battering ram?! For a moment nothing else happened, Tony watched with baited breath, hand fumbling to get a firm grip on the wrench. The next hit had the door flying clear off the frame, smashing into the back wall in a cascade of shattered glass as it took out his chemical station. Based on the force needed to wreck that kind of damaged, Tony was expecting some kind of mechanized ram, or at least a team on men the size of Texas. What he hadn’t been expecting was one lone alpha looming in the doorway with bloody knuckles and familiar blue eyes staring right at him. Rogers, his mind supplied as their eyes locked. Those were the eyes of a predator, and Tony was starting to feel distinctly like a rabbit caught in a snare. **_He just smashed through that door like it was made of cardboard, holy shit!_** His mind reeled, trying to find a rational explanation.

 

DUM-E’s recovery time ended up being better than Tony’s. His stupidly brave little bot rolled right up to the intruder, dousing him with CO2. Those sharp eyes finally left Tony to look at the offending bot, and for a moment, Tony watched in horror as the alpha reached his hand out toward the bot. Oh God, was he about to rip DUM-E apart with his bare hands?! “Leave him alone!” Tony shouted before he could think it through, chucking whatever he could get his hands on from the prep table at the alpha trying to attack his bot.

 

“No.” Rogers said sternly instead, deftly dodging Tony’s projectiles, and gripping his hand around the nozzle with the distinctive whine of crushed metal. DUM-E seemed confused by his weapon’s change of state, and chirped nervously as the alpha’s gaze shifted back to his maker. Tony could relate. Wasting no more time on the bot, Rogers stalked forward, and Tony backed up as far as he could until his back hit a wall. “What do you want?” Tony hissed, trying to keep his voice sounding more confident than he felt.

 

“You’re in danger. I’m going to protect you.” The alpha rumbled as he hovered into Tony’s personal space. His body language wasn’t threatening exactly, but the sudden closeness left Tony feeling lightheaded. The protective pheromones coming off this guy could drop a fucking horse, and Tony had to fight against his own biology as his muscles tried to relax into jelly. 

 

“Yeah, seems to be the popular line today, take a number pal!” Tony growled, shifting to try and put some distance between them. Not that Rogers seemed to be getting the memo, as he nuzzled his head forward to scent Tony neck. It was an incredibly intimate gesture that should have disturbed Tony far more than the embarrassment currently painting color on his cheeks. This was really not helping with the whole jelly thing.

 

“Are boundaries just not a thing where you come from?” Tony tried to push against the solid wall of muscle caging him against the wall. He need space and air not currently polluted with spicy musk that made it hard to think clearly. Rogers at least moved his face from Tony’s neck, but the alpha’s whole body seemed to freeze at the sent on Tony’s arm.

 

“Who touched you?” Rogers asked, taking the same arm in a much gentler grasp. His voice was deceptively quiet, but there was an undercurrent there, something raw and barely caged that promised the sweet taste of violence to whomever dared touch what was his. Primal, Tony thought briefly, something that couldn’t be reasoned with.

 

“A creep with a line, and some grabby hands. Seemed to know _you_ , pretty well.” Tony deflected, suddenly desperate to be free of that gaze. He tried to squirm away, but there was no getting around the bulk of this guy.

 

“Rumlow.” It came out more as a growl than anything else. “He’s bad.” Blue eyes found Tony’s again, imploring him to understand that essential fact.

 

“Yes, I gathered that.” Tony replied dryly. “They said the same thing about you, so color me confused here.” Tony pointed out curtly at the alpha as he…did he just…no! He **_pouted_** back at the omega! Where did an alpha in this situation get off on pouting like Tony had just stolen his puppy!

 

“I’m not going to hurt you. They want to take you. I’m going to protect you. I promise.” The alpha murmured earnestly, like he was saying a vow.

 

“Sure, you promise, it’s settled then! I’ll just file you under ‘not a KGB assassin trying to kill me’. Glad we cleared that up.” Tony intoned sarcastically. It’s not like the guy hadn’t just busted into his lab with inhuman strength, and apparently been stalking him for days. But hey, he **_promised_** , so it’s all good!

 

“Come, we need to leave.” Sarcasm, along with bubble space, it appeared was also not a thing where this guy came from, as he nodded along with Tony as if his rant was perfectly insightful. The Alpha then started pulling Tony with him across the lab, careful to steer them away from the broken glass.

 

“Uh no, see here’s where we’re gonna hit a bit of a snag big guy. I’ve hit my fucking quota this week for being yanked around and manhandled, so I’m not going anywhere until I get some damn answers. Understand.” Tony bit out, digging in his heels and trying to pull his hand from Rogers’ grip.

 

“We don’t have time.” Rogers huffed at Tony’s protests, eyeing the Omega with a slight frown, like he couldn’t grasp why Tony didn’t understand the clear order for what it was. Instead of his protests being addressed, Tony found himself suddenly airborne, landing with a definite **_oomph_** across Rogers’ shoulders in an embarrassing fireman carry, the son of a bitch! 

 

“Wrong answer.” Tony grunted, as disappointed as he was angry. Curling himself into as much of a ball as possible, Tony covered his ears and squeezing his eyes shut. “J, light it up!” The effect of the flash bomb was immediate, dropping them both to the ground in a tangled heap. Tony scrambled up, still a little wobbly from the grenade’s effects on his balance, but he’d shielded himself better than Rogers. He didn’t have time to look at the downed alpha, dashing out the demolished doorway, and down the halls as quickly as he could. 

 

Tony’s ears were still ringing when he finally made it outside the lab building. Again, his options were few, but the apartment seemed too obvious. He took a left to head back toward the more populated part of town, hoping a crowd might at least give him some cover to figure out a better plan. Tony barely made it a block before suddenly being tackled into the pavement.

 

“Think that was a real slick move huh? Taking off like that.” A smoky voice husked into Tony’s ear as the alpha’s body shifted on top of Tony’s in a manner that was most definitely **_not_** professional. 

 

“That’s okay sweetheart, I like the chase.” Agent Rumlow purred, pushing Tony’s cheek into the concrete with one hand, and gathered Tony’s hands in a painful grip with his other. Stunned as he was, Tony still recognized the distinctive click of the handcuffs that had been locked in place, and tried not to hurl as he was abruptly hauled off the ground. “Target secured, bring the van around.” One of the other agents called in on some kind of radio. Not good. Three of them was bad enough, but if they got him in that van, his odds of escaping went down drastically. Tony tried to jerk free from Rumlow’s hold, but just got a hand gripped around his throat for the trouble.

 

“We tried playing nice with you, now we do things my way.” Rumlow smiled as Tony gasped like a fish on a boat deck. Eventually the alpha let go with a chuckle, Tony coughed, sputtering desperately for air. “Not such a haughty little bitch now are you.”

 

“Fuck you!” Tony bit out, spitting in Rumlow’s face in a supremely stupid act of defiance he couldn’t bring himself to regret. He didn’t get to enjoy it long. Tony’s teeth rattled with the backhanded slap, the blow sending him sprawling to the cold pavement, landing hard on his left shoulder that ripped a groan from his split lip.

 

“Oh I have been waiting for this!” Rumlow’s boot pinned Tony in place on the ground as the omega tried to belly crawl away. Tony couldn’t see Rumlow’s face, but the telling clink of a belt buckle being undone was enough to send Tony spinning into a panic, frantically trying to buck free of the hold. Rumlow just dropped more pressure on his foot until Tony’s lungs felt like they were being crushed.

 

“Garret won’t like it.” The agent who’s called on the radio said nervously, looking around the dark street corner for sight of the van.

 

“Shut up! He ain’t here, and you ain’t gonna tell him.” Rumlow growled. “Go stand watch if you’re getting squeamish on me Sitwell.” Whatever Sitwell might have replied though was cut off with a wet squelch, a knife suddenly sticking out of his throat. The man collapsed to the ground in a convulsing heap making soft gurgling noises as his hand fingered at the knife.

“Shit!” Rumlow cursed, foot lifted from Tony once again. Tony didn’t see the other agent go down, so much as hear the bone crunching as he hit the wall beside him. The sounds of a scuffle raged around him as Tony tried to crawl out of the way. The snarls of the alpha brawl growing more feral until someone screamed. Tony twisted up to his knees in time to watch Rogers, hands bloody, pound Rumlow’s skull one, two, three times. Tony caught sight of Rumlow's battered mess of a face before Rogers dropping him like a sack of garbage. Blue eyes searched out Tony once again. This time they reminded him of the photograph in the bar.

 

Slowly he stalked forward, chest heaving, and Tony was left frozen in place as he watched, chin lifting to bare his neck without conscious thought. Blood pounded in his ears as it rushed south, and Tony in that moment was absolutely terrified, but also incredibly turned on as wet slick began creeping down his thigh. It was so wrong, the flutter he felt as Rogers picked him up in his arms, the swoop in his stomach as the alpha buried his face, stained with blood, in the cradle of Tony’s neck. **“Mine.”** He growled there, teeth grazing gently against the sensitive gland that tore a needy whimper from Tony’s throat. **Yes Alpha! Warm, Safe, Yours!** Tony was being carried again. This time it barely registered through the haze, and he was too tired to fight back against the hold. Tony’s body melted like jelly against a warm hard chest. He was safe now, Rogers promised.


End file.
